One Night On Alderaan
by prozacgirl
Summary: Lord Arryn spends the night with a noblewoman of Alderaan to gain a political advantage. His crew is somewhat amused. Especially Vette. One-shot. M for sexual situations. Arryn Legacy (Human Sith Warrior / OC).
1. A Diplomatic Solution

"One Night on Alderaan"

* * *

"Lord Arryn, I believe we have an accord."

Lockhart made to bow before the Lady River Dalaran, but she extended her slender hand out to him. He gave her a small, charming smile and took her hand in his, pressing his lips gently to her skin. He lingered there just a moment longer than was proper, lifted his eyes to meet hers and felt the shiver that passed through her body.

Lockhart released her. "Please, give me a moment to speak with my crew. After that, I promise that you will have my undivided attention, Lady."

She smiled at him in a way that said '_**do not be long'.**_ "Of course. When you're ready, my servants will show you to your room for the night. Please feel free to go and rest. I will come personally to escort you to dinner."

"I will enjoy that," Lockhart said, giving a small bow and turning away from her. The smile slid off his face as he approached his crew in the back of the room. Vette, who couldn't be bothered with propriety, leaned against the wall, her arms crossed in front of her, looking very bored. She was wearing her sun shades. Quinn stood like a statue as always, ramrod straight and his hands behind his back, the epitome of the Imperial Soldier. His eyes followed Lockhart as he approached. Vette nudged Jaesa, his padawan-turned-apprentice, and her eyes snapped forward. She had been watching a group of guardsmen posted near the side entrance. One of them had been watching her just as intently.

"We outta here?" Vette asked, shifting her weight from one hip to the other. "This place is a little stuffy."

"You three can return to the ship but stay on-planet. I will join you in the morning."

As he expected, all three of them looked puzzled. He was surprised it was Quinn who questioned him, though. "The morning, my Lord?"

"I'll be staying with Lady Dalaran this evening, at her request," he said flatly, as though this was something that occurred every other day. "I'm certain that she was inviting me for more than just dinner."

Vette tore off her sunglasses. "Staying with Lady Dalaran? You mean…you're gonna…?"

"Quite," Lockhart said simply, slipping his fingers into his armored gloves. "If I'm not mistaken, I have just procured all the necessary supplies we'll need for the next stage of our mission and most importantly, the permission to carry out our plans on her land, as well as having my pick of her personal guard. However, if I read the signals correctly and I'm positive that I did, it came with a price."

Vette bit her lip and tried her hardest not to laugh. "So, you're going to sleep with her in exchange for all this stuff? That's new."

Lockhart turned his gaze on Vette. "It gives us a tactical and political advantage. That's how the game is played on Alderaan. Sometimes it's with words, sometimes with money. Words bore her and she's got all the money she'll ever need. Evidently, the Lady wants something she's never had. I didn't…expect this but I can hardly say no. She will take it as the highest insult. My only option is to proceed and…" Lockhart cocked his head, searching for a way to put it delicately.

"And give her the shag of a lifetime?"

"Precisely," Lockhart said, his face serious. Quinn was genuinely gobsmacked. Jaesa was looking at her master with an expression he'd never seen before.

Vette smirked. "At least she's not ugly,"

Lockhart raised an eyebrow. "I suppose there is that."

There was an awkward silence between them, broken as Vette slipped her hand inside her jacket and pulled out a small flask. She shoved it into her master's hands.

"Here," she said, "some liquid courage. I know you've got nerves of steel and all, but this isn't a battle you can win by waving your lightsaber around." Vette grinned. "Well, actually, that's exactly what you'll be doing…"

"No alcohol," Lockhart said, shoving the flask back into Vette's grasp. "I need all my faculties. My performance must be unhindered by chemicals." Vette giggled. Lockhart closed his eyes and sighed.

"This is rather humiliating."

Jaesa pursed her lips together and made an effort to hold in her laughter, quite unsuccessfully. Vette was shaking with silent chuckles, while Quinn seemed to be quite interested in the patterns on the floor.

"Go show her a good time, Master. I know you'll be as magnificent as always," Vette said, whacking him softly on the shoulder.

"I appreciate your confidence in me, Vette," he said with a smirk.

"Well, I've seen you in your underwear," she said, shrugging. "I think she'll be pleased with the goods."

He struggled to maintain a straight face, but his cheeks flared red despite him. He shook his head and chuckled.

"That's…thank you, Vette." He shook his head, his bemusement obvious. "I'd give you all leave to go where you wish tonight, but Alderaan is very Republic. I'd feel better if you stuck close to the ship, and each other. Quinn's in charge."

Vette rolled her eyes and Quinn stood at attention, even straighter if that was possible. "My Lord," he acknowledged.

"Don't call me for any reason other than an enemy attack or someone's been injured…gravely, as in _near death_," Lockhart said, pointing at all three of them. I will make contact with you if there's a problem."

"Like you can't get her bra off?" Vette said, biting her tongue between her teeth. Quinn nudged her hard in the ribs, and she glared back at him.

Lockhart fixed a cold gaze on her. "I still have that shock collar somewhere," he said warningly, but she knew he was teasing. "Go. I have work to do."

Even Jaesa found it hard to suppress a grin as she walked away. Vette shoved Quinn out of the door and Lockhart could hear them arguing down the steps of the estate.

He sighed and turned back to the hall. Lady Dalaran had gone to do whatever rich women did when they weren't holding court or eating gourmet meals. Her servants were waiting for him, and he silently followed them to what he guessed was his room for the next few hours, until dinner. Then, he assumed he'd somehow end up in Lady Dalaran's chambers for the rest of the night.

It wasn't something he did often, this, but when the opportunity arose, he took it. It was a solution; a means to an end. And it didn't involve killing someone, or crawling through the dirt, or worse, talking to boring people in nice clothes for hours to come to a peaceful solution. There was a reason he was not a diplomat by trade.

He knew he was something extraordinary. That would have been true if had simply been The Emperor's Wrath, but he also was quite young for an accomplished Sith, unbeaten in battle and lastly, easy on the eyes. He'd pieced together enough information from his meetings with others, their conversations overheard, and their opinions of him. His face was serious but striking. His skin was unmarred by scars or burns or tattoos. His eyes were a deep, almost unnatural green. His voice was deep and buttery, and he knew how to use it to his advantage.

It wasn't the first time he'd been propositioned. It wasn't the first time he'd accepted.

It wasn't always about political gain. Sometimes a night with a woman was a welcome respite from the mad adventure that was his life. Fighting the enemy, getting bloody and bruised, touched only by his armor and the wind on his face. Sometimes, he needed to feel soft skin, to bury his face against hair that smelt of perfume, to feel a tangible release.

He marched into what he assumed was his room. His escorts bowed low to him and left him alone in the huge chamber. It was carved in marble, with white linens and statues and beautiful furniture. Luxurious. The bed was the largest he'd ever seen. The bath was a swimming pool. The view from the terrace was a miracle.

The Wrath smiled and threw himself onto the bed.

* * *

The next morning...

* * *

After a very, very late breakfast with Lady Dalaran, Lockhart boarded the estate's personal shuttle back to the spaceport.

It was challenging to keep the smile off his face, but he did try. He also tried very hard not to yawn, but he was exhausted. He had hardly slept the three nights previous, and last night had been no exception, just a different reason keeping him up.

Lady Dalaran's sexual appetite had astounded him. He was fairly certain that he'd impressed her with his…abilities, but he hadn't expected her to be quite so keen. She'd come to his chambers before dinner, and brought him to her chambers after dinner. Then, there was the pool and the quick shag in the garden this morning before breakfast. He thought she was never going to get enough.

He winced as he carefully straightened out one leg. He was sure he'd somehow pulled a muscle, and his shoulder throbbed for some unknown reason. There was also a very uncomfortable sting coming from his left and right flank where her nails and carved out some of his skin.

As soon as he boarded his ship, Vette was on him.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" she shouted. "We watched you on the monitor when you came through the hanger. Did I detect a slight limp as you took your walk of shame?"

He couldn't help but smile. "Shut it, Vette. Don't try to be clever."

"My poor Master," she said, mocking concern. "She rode you like a tauntaun without a saddle, didn't she? Well, I hope you were suitably appreciative of all of her donations to our cause."

He smirked. "I'm surprised you didn't hear her _appreciation_ from here."

Quinn chose that moment to walk into the room and properly blushed. Pierce was behind him, with Jaesa in tow. They looked at each other and laughed, a private joke, and Lockhart had to wonder if they hadn't been doing the same thing he had last night.

Vette giggled.

"Quinn, what's the status of the ship?"

Quinn straightened. "All systems at optimal level, all crew ready for departure." Lockhart nodded his approval, and then approached the Captain. He laid a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.

"I'll have a pain hypo and a sedative," he said wearily, and the Captain nodded in understanding, the corners of his mouth tugging a bit.

"Set a course for standard orbit of the planet," he said, louder now and to the whole crew. "I'm going to my quarters for a proper sleep. You have the bridge, Quinn."

He fled the room before Vette could come up with any more jokes.

~ end


	2. What happens on Alderaan

By request...the missing scene (well, one of them) between Lord Arryn and Lady Dalaran. Very M. Enjoy!

* * *

Lord Arryn felt that if he died right then and there, soaking in a luxurious tub filled with bubbling oil, it might be a good death. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so utterly relaxed. It wasn't something he allowed himself often, but he reasoned that there was little else to do while he waited to be collected for dinner. It was barely past lunch.

He tried not to think of the night ahead, and then told himself that probably should think about it; to mentally prepare. He had to impress his host – had to be everything the imagined and fantasized that he could be. If he was anything less, or simply ordinary, then perhaps she wouldn't be so eager to give away her provisions.

She was a lovely woman; early-thirties, with very long brown hair that was braided and tied in a way that must have taken hours and at least two handmaidens. She had sharp, blue eyes and they missed nothing. Her figure was slim; her hips were narrow and her breasts not particularly prominent, but that wasn't the measure of the woman. He didn't have a fifteen-inch cock, either.

It took strength and nerves to ask a Sith Lord to her bed. But she hadn't batted an eye. She saw something that she wanted and she took it. That was something he could respect.

He sighed and sank deeper into the tub. For five whole minutes, he lay there in undisturbed bliss.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he knew that someone had invaded his room. He took note of the location of his light saber – on the table next to the tub and within his grasp – but he stayed still in the tub and even closed his eyes.

He heard the door to his bathroom open slowly.

"I'd like to report a crime," he said without opening his eyes. "Some fool has either broken into the guest chamber of a Sith Lord, or…" he opened his eyes and looked up at his intruder, "the lady of the house has come to collect her payment early."

Lady Dalaran smiled down at him. "Is that all you think this is? Payment?" Lockhart noted that she was wearing a simple white robe. Her feet were bare and her hair was down and free of ornaments. It fell gracefully down to the small of her back.

"You're a woman who says what she means and gets what she wants," he said, his eyes travelling up and down her body. "That has to be true, because I'm here."

She smiled and laughed silently. "You're right. I've never had a Sith Lord before."

"Do you imagine it would be so different from other men?"

"I do," she said, approaching the tub slowly. "I have witnessed your command of the Force; your passion for the old energy. You can be the savior of the people or the terror of the land. You have been both, sometimes simultaneously. Yes, you are a man, but you're not just a man. And I want you. I want to savor you. I won't beg you to forgive me for my boldness."

"How could I be offended? On the contrary, your boldness is quite…thrilling." Lockhart fixed his gaze on her, his eyes darkening as they bore into her. Wordlessly he rose out of the water, the bubbles sliding down his wet skin, and allowed her a moment to look at him. She sucked in a breath, her eyes travelling over his body with no inhibition.

Lockhart calmed his mind as he stepped out of the tub. _This is like going to battle_, he thought. He focused his thoughts on her, and his eyes burned with the darkness behind them. He didn't bother with a towel. Water dripped and soap suds puddled on the floor as he advanced on her.

There was something akin to fear in her eyes, but it was mingled with excitement. Her chest rose and fell dramatically. He could hear the thudding of her heart. He could practically smell her arousal.

He measured her the way he did his enemies before he pounced for the kill. She was expecting him to be rough, and preferred it that way, but would be pleased if he showed her tenderness as well. As he reached for her, he decided that it was best to assert his power first. They hadn't even had dinner yet; there would be time for tenderness later.

He took her roughly in his arms, wet limbs encircling his prey at the back of her head and at her hip. He ground his hips against her as he kissed her, hard, until she pulled away gasping for air. Then, he attacked her neck as she sighed and moaned against his ear. It was amusing how those little sounds and her breath against his skin could make him so instantly hard, but it did the job. He pushed his hips against her. She whispered unintelligible words.

To his own surprise, the way she nipped at his ear and dug her fingers into his scalp was astonishingly effective at arousing him. The robes she wore were heavy and had an annoying amount of strings and buttons, so he pushed her skirts up to her waist, lifted her onto the counter and shoved her legs apart. He smirked. No undergarments at all.

He paused a moment to feast his eyes on her, watch her pant as she waited for the attack.

"Your enemies must have felt such great joy as you destroyed them," she said breathlessly. He laughed at this and jerked her hips forward, entering her roughly, making her cry out.

"Their screams never excited me this much. Yours do."

At first his thrusts were slow and hard. Her fingers tangled in his hair – she seemed to really enjoy his hair – and scraped down his back. He felt a sting as her nails cut him at his flanks, and he sped up. She pulled him into a ferocious kiss, her tongue plunging into his mouth, her lips frantically sucking on his. He kept one hand firmly on her hip, steadying her against the counter, while the other hand gripped her clothed breast.

Oh, it had been too long. Too long since he'd felt this. For a moment he became lost in the sensations; until he felt her nails scrape against the sensitive flesh of his neck and he remembered that it was a performance. His hand left her breast and snaked between her legs, honing in on the wet heat of her core. With his thumb he began to trace rough circles around the protruding nub of flesh.

The effect was instantaneous. Within seconds she convulsed in his arms, her head thrown back, mouth open wide and howling with pleasure. Her nails dug deep into his skin. Feeling her tighten around him and the animal-like noises she made, he followed only moments later, finishing with hard thrusts and quiet gasps.

When he opened his eyes, she was smiling at him, her breathing beginning to slow. "I enjoyed dying at your hands, Lord Arryn." She kissed him gently. "I should like to do it again later."

He was breathless, but he managed an easy smile. "As you wish, my Lady." He slowly withdrew from her, eliciting a gasp from her. "What shall we do until then?"

She looked over his shoulder.

"The bath is still hot."

~end


End file.
